


Another thrilling weekend in suburbia

by Zetor



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Bonding, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sisterhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zetor/pseuds/Zetor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boring afternoon at the Morgendorffer's until Daria overhears Quinn talking and comes to a dangerous realization about one of her sister's friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another thrilling weekend in suburbia

_Another thrilling weekend in suburbia._ I sink further back into the couch and flip through the channels. Nothing good is on, not even anything worth mocking. Jane’s not here anyway, busy with some new project, and mocking the idiots on TV alone is just pathetic.

Quinn walks down the stairs as I’m about to turn off the TV. She’s yammering on the phone, as usual. “I know Sandi, it’s _so_ weird.” I immediately reconsider turning off the TV an instead and start raising the volume. “I have no idea what she’s thinking.” She’s raising her voice to keep up with the TV. “Hold on Sandi.” She walks out in front of me with her hand over the receiver. “Daria, turn down the TV.”

I keep turning it up. “Sorry, can’t hear you Quinn!” She pouts and makes a grab for the remote. I pretend to fight her for it, then let go. She reels back and almost falls, before catching the arm of the couch. _Oh, well._

She scowls and turns off the TV. My brief moment of amusement over, I decide to get up and head for my room. As I start up the stairs, she sits down and picks up her prattle again. “Sorry, Sandi. The _maid_ was slacking off and I had to tell her to get her back to work.” She pauses, listening to the queen bee. “You’re absolutely right. What were we talking about again? Oh right, all that weird stuff Jeffy saw Stacy buying.”

For some reason I stop halfway up the stairs. _That was the twitchy one, right?_

“I mean _helium_? What is she planning, a kids birthday party?” Another pause.

_Helium? That is kind of weird, but that girl did always seemed a bit off._

Quinn started up again. “I know, that’s why you hire people for things like that. And what was up with that other stuff? Bags and tubes? God, I hope she’s not getting _craftsy_ again.”

 _Helium, tubes, a bag. Crap. Crap, crap, crap._ I run down the stairs two at a time. “Quinn, get off the phone _right now.”_

She covers the receiver again. “This is important Daria, I’m sure your little artist friend can wait.”

I reach the bottom of the stairs and get in front of her. In a voice I don’t remember ever using before I tell her, “Yours can’t.”

She starts to say something, then stops and stares at my face. I’m not sure what kind of expression I’m making, but her face pales and she says, “Um… Sorry, Sandy, I’ve got to go.” She hangs up the phone and holds it out to me.

 _Gotta remember how I did that. No, no time for jokes. What’s wrong with you?_ I grab the phone and start dialing. “Quick, what’s Stacy’s address?”

“What? Um… I think it’s 2401 Willow Street. What’s going on, Daria?” She sounds scared. I guess that’s understandable. I sure as hell am.

The phone connects and I hold up my hand for her to be quiet. A woman’s voice comes over the line. “Hello, 911. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“My sister’s friend saw a girl buying several items that could be used to kill herself.” Quinn gasped. “The girl has clear anxiety and possibly self-esteem issues.”

“Alright. What is your name and what is this girl’s name?”

“My name is Daria Morgendorffer and the girl’s name is Stacy— Hold on a moment please, I need to ask my sister for her last name.”

“Alright.”

I turn to Quinn. She seems to be in shock. I shake her. “Quinn. Quinn!” She comes out of it a little. “What’s Stacy’s last name?”

“Rowe, it’s Rowe,” Quinn manages, shakily.

“Her last name is Rowe, Stacy Rowe. She lives at 2401 Willow Street.”

“Alright, what were the items she purchased?”

“A tank of helium, some tubing, and some plastic bags.”

“Thank you, Ms. Morgendorffer. I’m sending an officer now. Can you answer some more questions?”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. “Yes”, but I’m going to have to ask my sister.”

“Can you put her on the phone?”

I look down at Quinn; she’s collapsed onto the couch. She must have heard the operator’s voice because she’s waving her arms in front of her and emphatically shaking her head ‘no’. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Can you just talk to me while I ask her?”

“That’s fine. Has Ms. Rowe ever talked about killing or hurting herself before?”

I turn to Quinn, assuming she can still hear the operator. Quinn shook her head. “No, she never talks about herself.”

 _I should ask about cutting. Quinn would definitely notice, but how do I ask? Right, of course._ “Does she ever wear long sleeve shirts or pants when it’s not… fashionable?”

Quinn thinks for a moment. “Actually, yeah. She’s been wearing long sleeves for like the last three months. They’re totally out of style. Why?”

I shake my head and sigh. I can’t really be disappointed in her; she didn’t exactly know what to look for. I get back on the phone. “No, she’s never explicitly talked about suicide or self-harm. Apparently she doesn’t talk about herself much at all. She has been wearing long sleeve shirts that she wouldn’t normally wear though.”

“That answers my next question. I think that will be everything. Can I call you at this number if we need anything else?”

“Yes. Can you let us know if she’s alright?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Morgendorffer. I can’t do that.”

“I understand. We’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

“Thank you for calling, Ms. Morgendorffer.”

I hung up the phone and sunk into the couch next to Quinn. She was staring at the ceiling. “Daria, I’m scared. Will she be okay?”

“I don’t know, Quinn. Do you really want to think about this?”

“I have to; it’s my fault this happened.”

“Quinn…” _How do I do this? Why do I have to do this? Because, under all that armor you put on you’re actually a good person who cares about her sister. Damn it._ “It’s not your fault Quinn.”

“But I didn’t notice, and I was mean to her. I mean I wasn’t as bad as Sandy, but I always ignored her and talked over her and stuff.” Quinn was starting to cry.

 _If there’s a higher power, this is proof that it hates me._ “Quinn, you can’t blame yourself for someone else actions.” Still crying. “We don’t even know if anything’s happened yet.” Still crying. “Aright, Quinn, do you really want to think about this problem? It won’t be fun.”

Quinn sniffs, wipes her eyes and looks up at me. Her face is full of guilt and desperation. This is a bad idea. “I need to know.”

I sigh. No going back after this. _Funny, normally I like breaking Quinn_. “Alright, what’s your first question?”

“D-do you think she’s already… y’know?”

 _Well, there’s only one real piece of evidence._ “When did Jeffy see her buy the helium?”

“Yesterday, I think.”

 _That’s not good._ “I’m going to be honest with you, Quinn.” Quinn nods hesitantly. “First off I could be wrong about the whole thing, but that doesn’t seem likely with all the things she bought and her personality. If she’d bought them a while ago, a week or a month, I’d guess she had chickened out or was waiting for some special time. That’s still possible now, but I think the chances of her… killing herself”—that was surprisingly hard to say—“are much higher right after she buys what she needs. She still has the courage to do it.”

Quinn is shaking, clearly trying not to break down. In an uneven voice that occasionally breaks she brings up her next question, “Okay, what about that stuff with the sleeves? Why did you ask about them?”

 _Crap. This might actually hit harder._ “She’s probably been cutting herself.”

“Huh?”

“People who are depressed sometimes cut themselves. Cutting releases endorphins that give you a kind of high, it makes people feel alive and relieved for a little while. If Stacy had been cutting her arms she would cover them up like that.”

“Then, I should have noticed.” She looks down. “I should have known. I could have h-helped.”

I knew this would happen. I’m just screwing her up worse. “Quinn, you didn’t even know about cutting until just now. How could you have known?”

“Well, I’m going to learn then. I won’t miss something like that again. How do you know so much about this stuff?”

I knew _this_ was coming. At least she doesn’t think I’m suicidal. Mom and Dad certainly will; that’s something to look forward to. “Quinn, I have an interest in human anatomy, horror movies, and lots of other things you would find icky. I pick things up.”

“So, you’re not…” Quinn asks, still looking down.

 _Guess I spoke too soon._ “No, I’m not suicidal.”

“Okay.” Quinn turns to me and says tiredly, “I’m glad.”

That was unexpected. “Um… thanks. I’m glad you don’t want to kill yourself too, I guess.” Oh, she’s asleep. Good. It’s probably for the best she didn’t hear that. Besides, it’s been a long day, and she’ll probably be getting some bad news real soon. I carefully get up and walk to the linen closet. Grabbing two blankets, I lay one over Quinn and wrap myself in the other as I curl up on one of the other couches in case she needs me. _I must be going soft._

**Author's Note:**

> Hello kind people who have read through to the end,
> 
> I was working on some other stuff, but this crawled in my brain and wouldn't leave. So, here it is.
> 
> I know suicide is probably the second most overused plot device in fan fiction after pregnancy (I know I cringe when I see either), but that was the thought I had and it just would not quit. I figured that as long as I had spent my time writing it, I might as well put it up here. No plans on a continuation anytime in the future, but you never know.
> 
> On top of everything else, I decided to play with first person and the present tense. I like first person, but present tense is weird. Let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading.


End file.
